His fingertips lightly traced the curve of my bosom, his warm palms caressing and cupping the soft supple flesh. My nipples hardened as he touched me,...my mind a torrent of nervous excitement and fear. All the time I felt the warmth of his breath and smelt the scent of his masculine aftershave. In his hold I always felt safe. His hands glided from my bosom down my waist and over the rise of my hips. Thumbs hooked inside the delicate straps of my panties that he took great delight in peeling,. I used to think all white girls were pretty, but now that I was used to them, I realized they weren't. Heather was pretty though and she wore a loose halter top, a pink one, with thin straps. The left one kept falling off her shoulder and she'd given up fixing it, so it was down by her elbow and I tried not to look at her large, firm breast as it threatened to spill out.Beneath that she wore a pair of loose shorts, like pink fleece gym shorts, and no panties. I knew because they were big around. More

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